The Unforgivable Crotches
by WeAreBob
Summary: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire: Chapter Twenty-Two and a Half.
1. Prologue

One day Mad-Eye Moody decided to become a naturist.

Ms Rowling omitted this chapter from the original Goblet of Fire as parents had been complaining about their children having nightmares as the books got scarier. Murders, child torture and implied bestiality were one thing, but even she considered this a step too far.

**Warning: **If you are squeamish, easily offended, or consider breeding arachnids with crustaceans a twisted perversion of nature please hit the back button now. Otherwise read on for the chapter you were never meant to see… "The Unforgivable Crotches."


	2. Chapter 22 and a Half

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO-AND-A-HALF

**The Unforgivable Crotches**

* * *

Hogwarts castle is the subject of many ancient enchantments.

One of the more obscure of these is that it _knows_ when a book going to be written about it and will force the occupants to hold a celebratory feast whenever the narrative finds it convenient. Some of Harry Potter's teachers had been there long enough to remember the trouble this had caused in the days of their last fledgling celebrity, Gilderoy Lockhart, whose sense of plot timing was vastly inferior to Harry's. The major events in Lockhart's life always missed normal feast days like Christmas and Halloween. Back in the "bad old days" as the staff called them, the need to bring unlikely characters together at appropriate times had become so desperate that they had needed to create several new feasts every year. These had included a christening feast for Hagrid's firstborn manticore, a day of mourning when Lucius outgrew his first golden wig and the revival of pagan traditions at the summer solstice.

Unfortunately for Alastor Moody, this year all the really _good _feasts had been used up by plot developments for the Boy Who Lived. So when he needed his own opportunity to make a special (and for once non-Potter related) announcement he did as all the lesser occupants of Hogwarts were having to do these days and applied to the board of governors for a "Pointless Feast Pass." The subject of this feast was an anonymous suggestion from one of the teachers and happened to prove extremely popular. Moody allowed himself a rare smile at the assembled students, pleased with the excellent turnout.

"Look at young Malfoy," whispered Professor Trelawney, who did not normally attend the feasts but had decided to make an appearance at this one. She was draped in blue and purple shawls and an overpowering scent of lavender bath oil radiated from her seat. She had chosen the chair next to Moody's, tucked away at the far end of the staff table. Moody, swigging polyjuice potion from his hip-flask as a precaution, raised a gnarly eyebrow. He was surprised to see her there and curious as to what manner of feast the governors could have cooked up that was so exceptional as to entice her.

"What about him?" growled Moody. He resented having spent years in Azkaban while Lucius Malfoy walked free, and had little interest toward his son.

"He looks at that Potter boy very often. It'll all end in tragedy!" she cried, fluttering her embroidered shawls and playing with her many bracelets. On her other side Professor Sprout studiously ignored her, pretending to be fascinated by a boiled potato on the end of her fork.

"What are you talking about?" he asked warily.

"Why he's in love!" cried Trelawney, eyes widening behind her enormous glasses. "Hopeless unrequited love with one who will die very soon! I have seen it in my teacup!"

"You like seeing things in teacups?" Moody growled. This had been an area of particular interest to Bartemus Crouch Junior both before his brief stint in Azkaban and during the long years trapped in his father's house. Winky had been kind enough to keep him supplied with the necessary ingredients then and, disguised as Alastor Moody, he had been able to send the elf off into the Forbidden Forest to hunt for them again without arousing suspicion.

"Would you like me to read your teacup?" she asked politely.

"When I want to see things in teacups I know perfectly well how to go about it," he snarled, turning from her. Nevertheless, he cast a curious eye toward the pale young Malfoy brat. The boy certainly was looking at Potter _a lot_ there was no doubt about that. Love though? Well, it wasn't impossible. He remembered two popular lads a few years above him at Hogwarts, friends of Potter's Dad, who everybody was certain were a couple.

"I didn't know you possessed The Gift!" exclaimed Trelawney excitedly.

"Oh yes," said Moody distractedly. "Mushrooms. That's the secret. You'd be _astounded_ by what I've witnessed after a cup of mushroom tea. Anyway we'd better sit down. Dumbledore is about to make his speech."

He inched round the back of the staff table and made his way to a seat next to Hagrid as far away from the divination teacher as possible. His wooden leg clunked irritatingly against the stone floor of the Great Hall. If only the real Mad-Eye were not so indifferent to personal comfort he would have asked Dumbledore to lay some carpeting. The incessant noise was driving him mad.

"Welcome all!" declared Dumbledore, spreading his arms for quiet, "To our first ever feast to celebrate the anniversary of the discovery of Perseus Evans' Orgasm Extending Potion- a reminder to us all that whatever our differences we are all united in our enjoyment of a nice shag. Make the most of our excellent feast everyone!"

A polite round of applause followed and the students resumed eating as though Dumbledore had said nothing odd at all. Moody looked at Draco's neutral expression as the boy went back to staring at Harry. As a young follower of the Dark Lord, impostor Moody was not easily fazed, but even he would have found this speech shocking had the headmaster delivered it during his time at school.

"Does he often say things like that?" he whispered to Hagrid, appalled.

"Oh yeah, all the time," replied Hagrid sagely, taking an ungentlemanly large bite out of a barbeque chicken thigh.

"And nobody thinks that's at all... inappropriate?" he asked.

"Nah- well the kids don't," explained Hagrid, wiping sauce from his beard. "We put a spell on the staff table. We can say what we like, anything at all, and the students hear some normal platitudes about Filch's banned objects list or the end of year exams. It broke a couple of years ago mind when Quirrel was still here… Dumbledore just seemed to speak a load of random words at the welcome feast. Good thing they didn't hear what he was really saying. They thought it were just Dumbledore being Dumbledore tho'. Yeh can get away with anything you're eccentric enough."

"Why?" asked Moody. "Why do it, I mean?"

"Well it's a laugh isn't it?" replied Hagrid, washing down his chicken with a small bucketful of wine.

There was an aura of contentment throughout the great hall. The flickering candles cast a warm orange glow over the chattering students. Someone had polished all the tables that morning so they gleamed as if they were burning themselves and the Weasley twins were playing a friendly game of table hockey with two empty bottles of P. Evans' Finest and an empty condom wrapper.

Mad-Eye got up and made his way to the middle row of tables, followed by several pairs of curious eyes. If what Hagrid was saying was true then he couldn't make his speech from the staff table. He disagreed that what he had to say was distasteful but it was likely to be controversial enough to set off the table spell.

"Quiet everyone!" he declared stepping with difficulty onto the Gryffindor table and weaving indelicately between plates and goblets until he was right into the centre of the great hall. The hall fell silent and they looked at him expectantly. "I have something very important to tell you all!"


	3. How to Look Good Naked

"Right then," he said to the silent hall. "In my classes have I not shown you the Unforgivable Curses, told you tales of the deadliest, hardest and most depraved of all our kind?"

There was an apprehensive murmur of assent.

"You've seen spells that will give you total control of your victims... and the Death Eaters don't just use it for politics girls so CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he continued. Several jaws dropped at the staff table and many of the students exchanged uneasy glances with their neighbours.

"You've seen curses that sado-masochists flinch at! You've had _thrust_ upon you knowledge of the deepest, cruellest, most relentless…"

"_Alastor?_" cried Mcgonagal.

"Sorry Minerva, I'll get to the point," said Moody without looking at her. His magical eye swivelled in all directions, finally settling on Malfoy who had turned slightly green in hue. "Now I'm going tell you something… No! To _show_ you something else that the ministry and your parents never wanted you to see!"

He smiled menacingly, his normal eye sweepping over the students, some of whom were cowering in terror. Neville was clammy white and trying (unsuccessfully) to hold Hermione Granger's hand. Their guests too were goggling- Madame Maxime clearly convinced that he had finally lost his mind, Karkaroff looking worried and calculating, and Krum simply scowling as usual.

"Children. Colleagues. I have become a naturist!"

With that Mad-Eye Moody dropped his robes.

Several people screamed. Even Krum's surly expression changed suddenly into one of total shock. Flitwick fainted in his chair, Sprout clasped her hands protectively over Hagrid's eyes… and Dumbledore. Wise, serene, old Dumbledore who usually had some patronising answer to everything was for once struck dumb, jaw grazing the table.

Let me take a moment to try and describe what the quivering witches and wizards saw.

His mane of grizzled hair straggled over shoulders that had far too many moles. The moles were hairy although the rest of his skin was not. His wrinked throat dipped into the saggy turkey folds, characteristic of people who lose a lot of weight in their old age when the elasticity of the skin has gone and great spare and useless flops are left over. From his armpits sprouted tufts of grey curls. Some of them were much longer than the others and tickled his gnarly elbows. His nipples were unnecessarily large for the size of his chest and an odd purple-bruised colour.

Draco Malfoy was gazing in disbelief at Moody's rear as he faced the Griffindors. He had a buttock missing and in its place was a great tangled knot of red, raw scar tissue culminating in more grey hairs spouting like a cornucopia from what remained of his bum. Slowly Moody turned around, and like a rabbit before an on-coming car, Draco Malfoy stared. He wanted to look away but couldn't. Moody's hands were covering his crotch.

"I present you with the beauty of the human body, that we so wrongly call disgusting," declared Moody. "BEHOLD!"

It was something of an anticlimax after such a dramatic buildup. To recreate the effect at home take a medium sized prune, soak it overnight in a mixture of red wine and animal fat, hang it out to dry for a few days and then stretch it slightly. To their own private revulsion many of the students helplessly tried to conjure up mental images of what this repugnant thing would look like erect. It was so limp, shrivelled and devoid of life that it simply didn't seem possible. The rest, for what it was, was so obscured by hair that no comment could be made.

There was a pause and then, as one entity, Fred and George whispered something to Lee Jordan who snorted his pumpkin juice.

"Did I hear a titter?" said Moody threateningly, rounding on them and rendered no less terrifying for his exposure. "So you think you can do better do you? THEN GET UP HERE AND SHOW EVERYBODY!"

That shut them up.

"I will be starting a Naturist Club on Saturday evenings," Moody announced, magical eye still fixed on Lee. "For those who are interested in seeing more of what Naturists get up to."

"SEE MORE!" shrieked Mcgonagal, finally finding her voice. "IT IS NOT POSSIBLE TO SEE MORE YOU REVOLTING, PERVERTED... Oddsbodkins, rhubarb, wibble… DAMN TABLE IS BROKEN AGAIN BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING!"

"Professor you can't look at naked students!" pleaded Hermione, horrified.

"Course I can!" said Moody.

"But Sir…!"

"It's the eye see?" he said, pointing a gnarly finger to his bright, blue magical eye and fixing it on Hermione's torso. "That's quite a size wart on your stomach… are you afraid of letting young Weasley see it? I noticed you flinched away when he tried to grope your bum earlier- is that why you aren't letting him get any?"

"VOS?" screamed Viktor leaping to his feet.

"Oh sit down baby-corn," sneered Moody, as Hermione shrieked and wrapped her arms around herself. "No need to be shy Miss Granger- its body hang-ups like these that are the precise reason why clothes are wrong. They make us feel bad about ourselves."

His magical eye roamed the great hall once again and students flung their chairs back and ducked beneath the table's to escape hiss line of vision He let the eye rest rather pointedly on Minerva Mcgonagal's left breast and continued.

"I am naked and have never felt more... _beautiful_! I urge you to leave your clothes and inhibitions behind and join me at my Nudist Club. Saturday evening. Six o'clock."

Draco was tempted to ask if they'd get a go with the eye, but he resisted.


	4. Harry Potter's Worst Detention

"Bet you enjoyed that didn't you Potter?"

The feast had ended rather abruptly (for some reason nobody seemed to want pudding) and the students were filtering out through the various doors to the great hall in shell-shock as each tried to get their heads around what had just happened. Many were wondering if lead-lined underwear would be sufficient to block Moody's magical eye.

"What?" snapped Harry irritably, turning to face him.

"Seeing a bloke naked," explained Draco in his harsh drawl. "Tell me have you always fancied boys or was it just a last resort when you couldn't get a girl because… well…"

He tapped the "Support Cedric Diggory" badge on his chest to flash up the words _Potter Stinks_.

"You're sick Malfoy," said Harry shortly.

"I heard you're taking Weasley to the yule ball, is it true?"

"Ginny is going with Neville," said Hermione placidly.

"Not the Weasley I had in mind Mudblood," Draco replied spitefully.

"Shut up Malfoy!" said Harry, getting hot under the collar.

"So it is true then?" asked Malfoy.

"I don't know why you're talking about _me_ fancying boys," said Harry, a cunning gleam in his green eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, looking suddenly alarmed.

"The rest of us have only _seen_ Moody naked," smirked Harry, "You've actually been _bounced_ by him. Haven't you? Ferret boy?"

A look of relief flashed over Malfoy's pointed features but he regained an almost immediate grip on himself. Harry did not have long to enjoy his victory however as a tall, greasy-haired figure emerged out of the shadows.

"That was a suspiciously quick witted remark coming from you Mr Potter," the familiar icy voice sliced from the top of the stairs. Harry's heart sank. It was Professor Snape. Snape had missed the feast, and more importantly Moody's shocking announcement, but he was downstairs now. A malevolent sneer was playing over his thin lips. "I wonder if you have been using a mental stimulant to help you with these Tournament tasks? Powdered dragon claw perhaps?"

"No Sir," said Harry wearily.

"You are competing against wizards with twice your training in this tournament Mr Potter. Am I to believe that that you have never once been tempted to illicitly improve your performance? When powdered dragon claw is so readily available?" asked Snape incredulously. "What do you think Mr Malfoy?"

"He does seem to be a lot brighter lately," said Draco at once. "There was a time he would've attacked me for insulting his girlfriend Granger but now he's smart enough to leave well enough alone."

"You git!" hissed Harry.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for rudeness Mr Potter," said Snape swiftly. "Fortunately there is a simple test to tell if you have taken powdered dragon claw, and it is _almost_ painless. I just need to extract a fluid sample from your stomach. Step this way please."

Harry froze. He had not taken powdered dragon claw, or any other illicit magical substances, but he did not like the idea of Snape probing his stomach contents one little bit.

"How exactly do you extract the sample?" asked Harry suspiciously, not moving.

"Perhaps you misheard me Potter, I told you to step this way."

"Not unless you tell me what you're going to do!" he protested.

"A further ten points for disobeying a direct instruction from a teacher Potter! Step this way."

"But Sir!" piped up Hermione bravely.

"Silence! I do not recall asking for your imput Miss Granger! Twenty points from Gryffindor! Potter if I have to tell you again you will find yourself in detention!"

Harry did not want a detention. Detention with Snape tended to involve endless jibes about his dead father and large vats of rat brains, but neither did he want to be trapped alone with the man for an undisclosed medical procedure.

"I want to see Professor Dumbledore!" said Harry defiantly.

"_No!_" responded Snape impatiently.

"Professor Dumbledore will not have time to see you anyway Deary, he is busy talking to Alastor about the new club he's setting up," came a mystical voice from the doorway. "Perhaps I can help?"

"No thank you, Professor Trelawney," replied Snape through gritted teeth, rolling his dark eyes. "Now Potter come with me, we can extract your stomach fluid and do the detention at the same time…"

"Excuse me Severus," Trelawney began again.

"Yes?" replied Snape, more than a bite of impatience in his voice.

"Alastor has actually asked me to speak to you about this new club. I told him that when _dear_ Gilderoy set up a duelling club the year before last, you assisted him in the demonstration and Alastor was hoping that…"

"No!" replied Snape, swiftly.

Fighting Lockhart was one thing, but Severus Snape suspected that in a duelling club with Moody he might be made to look extremely foolish. "No, the last Duelling Club was a complete farce and I have no reason to believe that this one will be any better. Besides I have some urgent medicinal potions to make for Madam Pomfrey."

"But Severus it's not a duelling…"

Harry shared a discrete smile with Hermione. Snape was being a complete coward about demonstrating in a Duelling Club with Moody. He hoped the Divination teacher would correct him, it would be worth ten detentions to see Snape's reaction to being asked to participate in a Nudist Club.

"That is my final word on the subject," Snape insisted, cutting her short. "Why don't you ask… ah! I have just placed Mr Potter here in detention. He can serve it with Moody. He can be the other demonstrator in this new club!"

"BUT PROFESSOR!" he screamed.

Harry knew full well what Moody's club was about, as unlike Snape he had been present at the feast. He could not, would not demonstrate at a Nudist Club, he had suffered enough humiliation already this year.

Behind Snape's back Draco Malfoy collapsed into an unrestrained fit of laughter.

"YOU HAVE CONTRADICTED ME ONCE TOO OFTEN THIS EVENING POTTER!" Snape bellowed, rounding on him. "I WILL SEND A NOTE TO PROFESSOR MOODY INFORMING HIM THAT YOU WILL CO-DEMONSTRATE AT HIS NEW CLUB."

"BUT _SIR!_" pleaded Harry desperately.

"AND HEAVEN HELP YOU IF YOU DON'T!"

With that Snape turned and stormed away before any of them dared to utter another syllable.

"It's alright Harry, he doesn't know what the club is about, I'm sure if we wait till he's calmer and explain…" Hermione began comfortingly.

"No," said Harry. "I'll tell Moody it was a mistake. Perhaps he'll let me scrape bedpans or something. If I go after Snape now he might remember about extracting that stomach fluid sample."

Draco let out a great yelp of laughter, cheeks red and almost in tears.

"This is all your fault!" Harry bristled at him. "I'll get even for this!"

He turned and pushed his way through a small crowd of gawking students. The post-meal entertainment had been truly excellent for them this evening. First Moody had provided a mini-horror show, then Snape had given them comedy. They peered around hopefully to see if more weirdness would be forthcoming, but then McGonagol stormed from the hall in a fierce temper and sent them all to bed.

"Perhaps," Draco smirked to himself as he made his way back to the Slytherin dungeon, "This Naturist Club might be worth looking in on after all."


	5. The Larva Lamp

**A tip of my hat to one very special reviewer who pointed out my typo on the word "lava lamp" in the original. Your three paragraph rant inspired this chapter and I thank you for that. Alastor Moody does not share my kindly sentiments.**

**Regards,**

**Bob.**

* * *

The walls of Hogwarts had been shaken by some truly horrible noises since its creation centuries ago. Noises that human ears were not designed to tolerate. Accordions, Mcgonagal on the bagpipes and Hagrid singing in the shower were among them but none of these were quite so unnaturally grotesque as the sound of Madeye Moody removing his false eye.

_Slluuupk-POP!_

It was a wonderful object, (Goblin-made with full 360 degree vision) but for now he needed to lose both it and his wooden leg, because Faux-Moody wanted his own sandy haired body back for private purposes.

He wished he could be a public naturist with his real body and reflected on it with some satisfaction as Moody's gnarly form twisted and distorted itself into lean, freckly Barty Crouch. What a waste. Still.

Wonderful patterns of red and golden light played over him from a larva lamp on his desk. He reached over and grasped it. Inside fifty tiny faerie larvae recoiled, shuddering. Barty had force fed them curry for lunch to make the lamp nice and warm. Good.

Leaning back on the legs of his chair, he reached into the desk drawer and removed a small tube of Perseus Evan's Orgasm Extending Potion. Careful not to use it all up at once (he was going to need the rest later that evening) he lubricated the lamp. Ignoring the quivering, shivering faerilets, he prepared to insert the lamp where any object that shape was built to be inserted, with a practised air.

"Oh shut up," he snarled at his trunk which had started rocking in an alarmed way.

It was a dear shame he couldn't use the eye in his own body. It would let him look at anyone he wanted within two floors while he…

…suddenly he stopped and carefully placed the dripping lamp on the table with a thud. Hang on.

A brilliant, no, EPIC idea lit up his lunatic mind!

Whenever he drank polyjuice potion to take the shape of Alastor Moody, he was able to work the eye just by placing it in the old man's empty socket. That allowed him to see through it even though there were no nerves left to connect it to his brain. So if the occular nerve was not a requirement of this magical blue device, did it technically matter which orifice the eye was inserted into? Was an eye socket an actual requirement? Or would any hole do?

Well there were two ways to find out the answer to that- and Barty decided to start with the most hygienic.

Fumbling for the keys to his trunk in the pockets of his recently abandoned robes, he muttered at the mysterious wooden box; "Going to get you out, got a question for you."

His tongue flickered insanely at the corner of his mouth. Seven locks later the lid was off and the real Moody looked up in faint horror at Barty's skinny bits and pieces dangling over the rim of the case.

"Look I've become a naturist, I'm not going to wee on you!" snapped Barty impatiently as the real Alastor shielded his face. "You can look up!"

"Pass on that laddie!" growled Moody defiantly. Barty rolled his eyes.

"Imperius!" he whispered. "Now tell me Alastor," he hissed, "Does this fascinating magical eye of yours need a vacant eye socket?"

"What?"

"Do I need this eye to be in my socket in order to use it?" said Barty in an I'm-talking-to-a-farm-animal voice.

"Are you holding the eye?" growled Moody.

"Yes."

"Can you see through the eye?"

"No."

"Then you need to insert it," Moody snapped.

"I realise_ that_," groaned Barty, "What I mean is, does it matter _where _I insert it? Does it need to be the actual eye socket or can I put it anywhere?"

There was a long pause as Moody tried to work out what the crazy bastard was talking about. Then realization dawned. Barty Crouch was going to try to use the eye in his own body by putting it into... where? His mouth was surely dangerous, what if he accidentally swallowed it? But that only left one hole big enough. His arse.

"Don't you dare!" he yelled.

"Shhh!" said Barty.

"Don't you dare!" repeated Moody in a sotto scream, compelled by the Imperius curse to keep his voice down.

"So it would work then?" asked Barty.

"I don't know! Oddly enough I've never tried it!" raged Moody.

"Oh well," sighed Barty, "It was worth asking." He picked up the eye, turned his backside on Moody and spread his legs.

"Urrrgghh!" said Moody vomiting slightly into his mouth. "I'll have to wear that when you're done with it!"

"No you wont," said Barty peaceably coating the eye in Perseus Evan's potion. It slipped through his fingers and rolled away across the floor but he caught it.

The shift in position, however, resulted in him standing between the firey lava lamp and Moody's trunk, so that his magnified shadow was projected against a red background onto the side of Moody's cavern. "I'll kill you eventually. Does that make you feel better? Besides I need my real body this evening. Yours is too old and slow for what I have in mind. And this is the only way I can wear your oh-so-helpful eye in it."

"Unless I gouged out one of your real eyes?" suggested Moody helpfully. "What are you going to do anyway?"

"The Dark Lord is preparing to return. Yes... It is a very complex incantation, and he needs some rare ingredients. Flesh of a servant, bone of a father, blood of an enemy... those are the main components. But to make the base of the potion he will also require the venom of an exceedingly rare hybrid."

"And how do you mean to acquire it?" asked Moody warily, mostly as a distraction from the oozy noise the eye was now making.

"Simple," said Barty, taking the prepared eye between his thumb and forefinger and pushing it up his backpassage sharply. "_Yeeeow!_" he yelped as his muscles tightened over it, but like the inserting of a pessary they soon relaxed and absorbed the orb into his rectum. "Hey it's working! It's working… oh fuck me this is weird."

"Yeuch," groaned Moody, whose eye had never been near another man's rear before, even in the abstract.

"I can see the inside of my arse!" gasped Barty.

"Shut up."

"It's all red and knobbly!"

"Shut up!"

"Now I know what all those little faerie larvae in the lamp must see!"

"Merlin help me."

"I am tripping out! This is almost as good as the mushrooms!" Barty grinned ecstatically, closing his real eyes and grinning broadly to savour the moment. "Wow the awesome colours… it's pulsating… it's undulating… it's…"

"So how are you going to get this venom?" asked Moody loudly, hoping against hope that the man's Death Eater fanaticism would distract him from describing in detail what it was like to have a vantage point from your own backside.

"Simple," repeated Barty. "I'm going to force them to inter-breed. Acromantula and Blast-Ended Skrewts! Hagrid would _love_ it. He'd probably raise the offspring for me if I asked! I'll pop in later and let you know how it goes."

With that he slammed the lid down plunging poor, miserable MadEye Moody into total darkness. As the locks clicked and footsteps padded away he could've sworn he heard the Fake-Moody mutter, "Should wear it like this more often. Feels pretty good actually."

"Bastard," muttered Moody.

"By the way," sneered Crouch, lifting the lid again. Moody blinked helplessly in the sudden glaring red light. "I thought you might like a bit of illumination down there… and some company. Catch!"

He tossed the larva lamp to Moody. The old man instinctively went to catch it, flinched back when realised it was Crouch's sex toy, then finally changed his mind and lunged for it to catch the faeries just before it hit the floor. Sadly he lost his grip because of the lubricant and dropped it anyway. Fifty squirming larvae were sent sprawling over the floor amid shards of broken glass.

"Idiot," muttered Crouch, slamming the lid down and storming off.

He scooped up the faeries and lined them up in his lap. They bit like gnats and were about as smart but at least they were some company, for the first time in months.


	6. Acroscrewtulas

It wasn't yet seven o clock but it was pitch black outside. A tiny sliver of a moon glinted like a scimitar in the starless sky, but the lack of light was no problem for Barty with a third, magical eye securely lodged up his bum.

Dimly his normal eyes traced the shadowy tree tops of the forbidden forest and he held up his wand in preparation for what lay ahead. But his magical eye was fixed elsewhere. High above the quidditch pitch Harry Potter was flying around in circles.

"Kids these days," muttered Barty. "In my day we coped with stress by having a nice cup of mushroom tea and a quick bonk… not flying around aimlessly like some concussed housefly!"

Though there was nobody else out and about in the frosty night, he still hurried toward the forest as fast as he could, instinctively feeling uncomfortable exposed in the open in his true form. In his free hand he carried the remaining Perseus Evan's Orgasm Extending Potion. He would have put it in his pockets, but being naked he had none. True to his new nudist convictions he hadn't bothered to get dressed before leaving the office. Well what was the point? He was dead if they caught him anyway. Even so it was _very_ cold…

He sneezed suddenly and his nose took it as cue to commence uncontrollable dribbling. Another advantage of clothes… a sleeve was something handy to blow on in such a situation… maybe he could just be an indoor-daytime-nudist? Best to get the giant spiders and blast ended skrewts inter-screwing and get back to the castle ASAP.

Not that he expected them to want to breed. Hence the potion. He would have to get them to swallow it somehow and hope the aphrodisiac would overcome their natural instinct not to copulate with highly venomous monstrosities of another species.

He had reached Hagrid's hut now and ducked beneath the reach of the window. Following an ominous burning smell around to the pens, he could hear scuffling and hissing noises. Clearly the skrewts didn't sleep at night. That was lucky. There they were, still with the leads around their suckers and stings that Hagrid's unfortunate class had been forced to place there. He'd just take a couple of males, that'd probably be easiest. The females were even more violent toward the opposite gender and Hagrid had privately confided in him that they ate the males after mating. It'd raise less questions too if the hybrid freaks were hatched away from the castle in the shadows of the forest.

Carefully… Carefully…

BANG!

One of the Blast-Ended Skrewts exploded suddenly singing Barty's private hair and causing him to let out an involuntary shriek of pain. His testis were smouldering and not in any positive way. The whole concept of outdoor nudism was becoming less appealing by the second. Just as he reached down to check his tackle was intact, a light flickered on in Hagrid's cabin and the curtain twitched.

There was nothing for it- Barty dropped the skrewt's leashes and ran, his scorched balls leaving a slight trail of smoke behind him. The biggest male skrewt lifted its (probably) front end as though sniffing the air. Without pausing in his flight, Barty cast a hurried glance behind him. The second skrewt had joined the first now and together they were scuttling toward him looking hungry. For a species without faces the meaning of their expressions was very clear: _Barbeque time!_

"Oh shit!" he screamed and in wide, ungainly bounds he sprinted full-pelt for the forest, the skrewts in hot pursuit of the meaty smell.

Well it was the same plan with a slight alteration. He was nearly at the giant spiders' webs now- all he had to do was find some way to get the skrewts to swallow Perseus Evan's Orgasm Extending Potion to get them into the right mood.

First he tried tossing some potion backwards, but it was wasteful, the arch didn't reach far enough and he certainly wasn't going to pause long enough for them to catch up. With a quick bit of fancy wandwork he conjured up a biscuit platter and coated it in the stuff and threw it back. The skrewts continued, relentless and utterly disinterested. Finally in desperation he hurled the almost-empty bottle back at the biggest skrewt. It slammed onto the beast's thick shell but didn't smash!

"Wha?" muttered Barty in shock, but there was no time to pause. He had run out of time- the spider nest was in sight and the only thing the skrewts were remotely interested in swallowing were toasty Barty-Balls.

"At least I can tell Hagrid what they eat now," he muttered to himself. "Screw nudism! Screw skrewts! And as for the Dark Lord, he can kiss my freckled arse!"

* * *

_**If this chapter had been included in the movies it would've been a slow motion moment- zooming in to focus on the look of rapidly dawning comprehension on Barty's face. The words "my arse... my arse..." would echo round the cinema in high quality surround sound.**_

* * *

As it was there was just a slightly sickening _sluppp _as Barty reached up his rear, extracted the magical blue eye. It was already coated in Perseus Evans' Orgasm Extending Potion and it was a ball, which is what they were chasing him for. He waved it tantalizingly at the skrewts. There was nothing for it. Balls were what their hearts were set on. Assuming they had hearts. The only way to make them swallow some Perseus Evan's Orgasm Extending Potion to make them want to mate with the spiders was to coat a ball in it and offer it up.

To make sure they got the message he popped it between his thighs before tossing it to the nearest one which swallowed it gratefully.

"Ok, it swallowed the potion," muttered Barty, pausing to take stock of the situation, "That's good." A pointed clicking alerted him to the fact that the spiders were awake. "But I'm also now standing in total darkness between sentient killer arachnids and horny pyromaniac lobsters. Not so good."

The undoped skrewt flared suddenly, revealing six fat spiders squaring up to the skrewts. The skrewt with the potion looked keen… whether for a fight or a shag, Barty couldn't tell but it seemed unwise to stick around and watch.

He turned and ran for the castle.


	7. Mushroom Tea

"Professor Moody? Sir?"

Harry Potter had been putting this moment off. _If only Snape wasn't such a coward_, he thought angrily.

Snape had wrongly believed that Moody wanted a co-demonstrator for a new duelling club and, not wanting to risk defeat in front of the whole school, he had volunteered Harry to take his place.

Only it was not a duelling club at all. Snape had it wrong. It was a nudist club and now he, Harry, had to persuade Moody to let him off the hook before he was forced to strip before all the Slytherins.

"Come in laddie," growled Moody's voice. "I just made a cup of tea for Miss Lovegood from Ravenclaw, we share an interest in rare magical creatures, but she said she felt sick and left. Would you like one?"

"Thanks," muttered Harry, edging into the room awkwardly. "Sir your eye…!"

"Yes lad?"

"It's erm… missing."

It was. Moody had been forced to leave it in the forest in the belly of an amorous Blast-Ended Skrewt and now that he'd taken his polyjuice potion the result was that Moody's garish empty socket was on display for all to see. Although mostly healed after many years, a few delicate tentacles of vein and tissue dangled into the unnatural red gap. Harry felt vaguely sick.

"Well so it is," said Moody, putting on the kettle and placing some strange grey lumps (which Harry hoped against hope were teabags) into two cups. "One of those blasted skrewts got it- would you believe?"

"Seriously?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," said Moody. "One of them escaped last night. Snatched it right out of my face."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing I can do 'cept wait till it comes out the other end," grimaced Moody, watching Harry wince. "The skrewt wont be getting far though. Reckon he must be feeling pretty confused."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Well the eye doesn't just work in the eye socket y'know. You can put it anywhere. That skrewt will be able to see all its innards, and believe me that's pretty disorientating stuff even when you know why it's happening! Course it might have other reasons to be confused…" he grinned as an afterthought.

"How do you know what it's like to…" began Harry, but paused and though the better of it. The answer couldn't be hygienic. "I wanted to talk to you about that detention that Snape put me in."

"Professor Snape," corrected Moody.

"Yeah. I was wondering if I could maybe do something else?"

"Other than be a nudist demonstrator tomorrow night you mean?"

"Erm… yes."

"Have you discussed this with Professor Snape?"

"Erm… no."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"I'm not sure he knows what the club is about sir," Harry blurted out suddenly to plug the silence. "He wasn't at the feast when you made your… erm… announcement."

"Mind stop saying erm? It's getting on my nerves."

"Erm… sorry."

Moody gave him a look.

"Tell you what, I'll make you a deal. I could use a hand getting the eye back before the demonstration. Come an hour early and help me out, or help me get it out, and you can stop short of getting it all out yourself. How's that for a compromise?"

"But sir," Harry protested weakly.

"Drink your tea now, that's my best offer," said Moody patting Harry on the arm.

Harry decided not to argue. It was an improvement and it wasn't as if anyone was going to turn up anyway. He took a deep gulp of tea to calm down and doubled up choking.

"What's this tea made of?" he gagged.

"Mushrooms," smiled Moody in an indulgent, fatherly way. "My favourite. I saw you flying round in circles so I thought I'd show you a more effective way to relieve tension."

"WHAT?"

"See how stressed you are? The tea will soon sort that. I'd get back to your dorm quick if I were you, you'll be no state to go anywhere once the show starts. Or you could go to Trelawney's tower to sleep off the effects. That's where I sent Miss Lovegood. Trelawney's interested in visions."

Harry bolted out the door.

His footsteps slammed against the stones, his head was spinning and he felt slightly woozy but he'd been feeling like that a lot lately. Was it hallucinogenic mushrooms or the effects of another stress surge?

Well he wasn't heading for the dormitory, and he certainly wasn't going to see Trelawney, he needed the hospital wing and an antidote.

"You are treading on dangerous ground Draco," came a horribly familiar silky voice. "If your father finds out…"

"He won't," said Draco fervently.

Harry tried to stop but it was too late and he cannoned headlong into Draco who fell, flushed and angry, onto the floor.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for assaulting another student," said Snape silkily.

Harry's head was spinning faster. Why were Draco's eyelashes turning purple? His eye's fell on the glowing letters on the "Support Cedric Diggory" badge on Draco's breast. He'd never seen anything as intoxicatingly beautiful as the colours.

"Wo-ow," he breathed reaching out to stroke the letters so that he could share in their beauty and become one with the lights. "Awesome."

Draco didn't know any of this. All he knew was that Harry looked strangely drunk, was gazing adoringly at his chest and was reaching out to stroke it. His breath caught in his throat and he desperately tried to keep his breathing normal for fear Snape would notice. He swallowed painfully as Harry placed his hand on his chest, palm covering and pressing on the badge and running down his torso…

"Oh Merlin," breathed Harry huskily. Draco's head swam, and so did Harry's but for two very different reasons.

Draco had wasted no time in telling everyone about Harry demonstrating at the nudist club and had modified the badges accordingly. As Harry touched and activated the badge the words changed to read not "Potter Stinks" but "Potter Strips."

When Harry saw this he collapsed, giggling hysterically.

Draco looked to Snape in alarm and saw his teacher appraising Harry with utmost indifference.

"What's wrong with him?" gasped Draco, stricken. Harry collapsed to the floor pointing at the ceiling and grinning manically.

"Looks like an overdose of powdered dragon claw to me," smirked Snape. "I knew it! The headmaster will kick him out for sure- drugs! He's gone too far this time. Help me carry him to the dungeons Draco, we'll get that stomach fluid while he's too incapacitated to stop us!"

Smugly, yet with infinite tenderness, Draco laced his pale hands beneath Harry's arms and lifted with all his strength. Snape unceremoniously grabbed Harry by the knees and yanked.

"I have to find an eye in skrewt shit," Harry told Draco earnestly. "So I can keep my pants on." Despite the ridiculousness of what he'd said Draco couldn't help melting slightly as Harry's green eyes locked so innocently and sincerely with his own. It almost made him feel guilty about what they were about to do.

"Hush Potter," he told Harry with slightly chastened glee. "I've got you."


	8. In Which Snape Tests Harry for Drugs

Candlelight glittered over the unconscious yet vaguely cheerful face of Harry Potter as he lay spread out on Snape's desk in the dungeons, innocently unaware that right now he had very little to be happy about.

Looming over him, holding a silver corkscrew was the hook nosed face of Severus Snape. Draco hovered curiously at his teacher's side like a medical intern.

Snape had accused Harry of using powdered dragon claw to help him with the Triwizard Tournament and wanted to test a sample to prove it. Unsurprisingly Harry had resisted having his stomach fluid drained by his worst enemy.

Draco had thought the Potions Master forgot the dragon claw in the argument that followed, an argument in which Snape had inadvertently nominated Harry to pose naked in front of the whole school at Moody's naturst club. He ought to have known his mentor better really.

"What is that for Sir?" asked Draco tentatively indicating the silver corkscrew.

On closer inspection the device was dotted with tiny holes. Surely not even Snape could actually mean to drill his way into Harry Potter's insides with a corkscrew? Yet Draco could see no other way for it to work.

"We will insert this into Mr Potter to absorb a fluid sample, Draco," Snape explained, holding the object up critically to the light of one of the candles. Odd glittering shapes seemed to be moving around inside it.

"Observe closely and you will see six faerie larvae are encased within. They have not been fed or watered all day."

Draco peered at the little creatures in the corkscrew. He felt rather sorry for them, but not as sorry as he was feeling for Harry.

"Once Mr Potter's juices have diffused into the object," Snape continued, "The hungry larvae will begin to eat them."

"I don't understand," said Draco, baffled. "How will this help us extract his stomach fluid?"

Snape smiled ominously.

"At this advanced stage of poisoning the drug will already have passed through his stomach," he said softly. "There is no point taking a stomach fluid sample now. We must turn out attention to Mr Potter's intestines."

"Sir?"

"You see Draco, the corkscrew will expand to fit the shape of our young celebrity's gut. Obviously a very convoluted shape. When the larvae eat his intestinal juices they will also eat the powdered dragon claw."

"So the larvae will become super cunning?"

"Marginally less stupid," Snape corrected. "Powdered dragon claw can only do so much. I doubt for instance that it would grant Neville Longbottom the mental capacity to tie his own shoelaces. A faerie can communicate through magical means but they have roughly the same intelligence as a dragonfly."

Draco snickered.

"So if Potter has eaten the dragon claw the larvae will get a bit smarter?"

"Exactly," replied Snape. "We will then remove the corkscrew, which will retain the shape of Potter's intestines for a few hours. We will then see how long it takes the larvae to work out how to escape from it. If Potter has indeed been taking powdered dragonclaw it should not be longer than ten minutes. Would you prefer to hold the implement or time the larvae with this hour-glass?"

"The corkscrew," Draco replied shrugging. "Why not?"

Snape gave a shudder of satisfaction as he reflected on how his enemy Moody would react if he knew what he was doing with the faerie larvae the auror had traded with him for a few bottles of Perseus Evan's Finest Orgasm Extending Potion. He shuddered a second time with revulsion. What did Moody want with that particular potion anyway?

"Um... what do I do Sir? Just open his mouth and put it in?"

"No Draco," grinned Snape, revealing his yellow, crooked teeth. "As I said, the drug will already have left his stomach and we must follow it. It will expand to fill Mr Potter's intestines- rather more than he will find comfortable- but we must make all sacrifices necessary to protect students from the dangers of addictive substances."

"We're going to shove it up his arse Sir?" exclaimed Draco gleefully.

"We need only put it in the vicinity of his intestines," replied Snape with a scientific air. "It knows where to go."

Severus turned his smug attention to an unusually large spiderling making its way up the table leg toward Potter's head. He had heard somewhere that people on average ate seven spiders in their sleep without realising it. Very slickly, Snape leaned forward to open Harry's mouth a fraction with his skinny forefinger.

"Ready Sir!" said Draco, seizing the silver implement.

"One moment," said Snape, reaching down a bottle from the highest shelf. There were, Draco noticed dozens more like it. His teacher quickly tore off the label before handing it to him. "Coat the corkscrew in this first. This is a potion of my own invention."

"You invented a lubricant?" said Draco in stunned disbelief.

"That is not quite the purpose of the potion Draco although it serves very well for that if one is so inclined. Not that Mr Potter's comfort is an issue here," he reflected spitefully, "But the corkscrew is rather valuable and I should hate to see it damaged."

"Why have you got so much of this potion?" asked Draco.

"I sell it," said Snape shortly and repressively. This was only half true. Normally he wouldn't keep such large stores in the dungeon where thieving students might get their hands on it, but Moody had had been getting through a staggering amount lately. He neglected to mention this to Draco however, as he doubted that Lucius would thank him for sharing such information with his son.

With a grunt of effort Draco rolled Potter onto his front so that his gaping mouth was now on a level with the approaching spider.

They placed the corkscrew next to Potter, then looked away for modesty's sake as the medical instrument served its function. When they turned back the object had vanished up Harry's robes but nothing was happening. Draco turned and looked doubtfully at his unresponsive teacher, and was about to take it out again when in a low dangerous voice Snape hissed "Wait for it!"

A bang made Draco leap a foot from Harry in alarm but to the astonishment of both Slytherins it was not the corkscrew that had made the noise but the spiderling.

The arachnid's own bottom seemed to have exploded, propelling it between Harry's teeth. Snape's eyebrows shot into his greasy hair in surprise.

"What the hell is that?" he snapped, sounding uncharacteristically natural and human, as he only did when caught off guard.

Yet even as Snape was rising from his seat to retrieve the intriguing spider, the silver instrument expanded.

At first it was as though Harry's lower abdomen had exploded, making his hips look oddly feminine. Harry's eyes shot open and he let out a high pitched scream. Then with a hissing, slithering noise like a snake farting, his body returned to the normal size. Draco froze in horror.

As the corkscrew shrunk down to his normal internal shape, Harry whimpered and gritted he teeth. _Crunch, _went the spider in his mouth.


	9. In Which Harry Eats an Acroscrewtula

_CRUNCH!_

Harry bit down hard on the spiderling.

An angry clicking noise came from outside. There was a lot going on for Harry to take in as he blearily recovered from his mushroom induced coma.

The first thing he noticed as he regained full consciousness was one of Aragog's enormous offspring looking at him through the window with her many eyes.

He opened his mouth to scream once more in pain and terror.

The second thing he saw was the dead baby spider dropping from his mouth. He caught it with a seeker's reflexes.

It was one of the strangest things he'd ever seen. Though it had eight legs and many eyes like a spider, its body was more like a miniature scorpion and it had an arched stinger that looked very familiar.

He looked back at the acromantula.

"This thing is part skrewt!" he shouted in confusion, holding the spiderling up by its tail. Outside the window its mother clicked more furiously. "Why would a Blast-Ended Skrewt and a giant spider want to breed?"

Spitting a few times to remove the venom from where he'd bitten into it, Harry turned his head to observe the source of pain in his rear.

The third thing he saw, far more alarming than a mere giant spider and its freakish hybrid offspring was Draco Malfoy standing between his bare, spread out legs.

"If there is any mercy in the world," Harry gasped, sweat pouring off him in tides, "Let me still be hallucinating from Moody's mushrooms!"

* * *

~~~ some time later ~~~

* * *

"My arse, Malfoy!"

"Shut up, Potter."

"Yeah, but you shoved a corkscrew up my arse!"

"Well, it sort of shoved itself," Draco muttered sullenly. "And Professor Snape told me to."

"Oh, well that makes it perfectly acceptable," snapped Harry, turning to face Draco, arms shaking. "Do you have any idea how painful that was?"

"What would you have done if he'd told you to do that?" Draco demanded.

"I would have told him where to stick it!" Harry yelled, face red.

"Snape told you to strip for the nudist club. I notice you didn't tell him where to stick it then! Nobody tells Snape where to stick it when he gives you an instruction!"

"He didn't need telling! He'd already decided where to stick it! UP MY SODDING ARSE!" screamed Harry.

"Keep your voice down!" hissed Draco. "You swore if I did this for you, you wouldn't tell anyone."

"Like I want the world to know," muttered Harry, rubbing his backside resentfully.

"Look on the bright side. At least you've proven you weren't taking powdered dragon claw," said Draco. "Professor Snape still can't tempt the faerie larvae to leave the corkscrew. If anything they're actually stupider than they were before. Must be those mushrooms you 'accidentally' drank."

"It wasn't an accident! Moody drugged me. And after we're done here I'm going to back to Snape's office to smash that corkscrew. I don't care if he puts me in detention till I'm a hundred and two."

"You might not need to smash it unless he can persuade the larvae to leave," Draco muttered darkly. "The device will go bad if the larvae die inside it so he can't shrink it back. He has to wait for them to come out"

"My heart bleeds," said Harry sourly.

After they had pulled the corkscrew out (a long and sore process once it had molded itself to the shape of his gut) his heart was not the only place that was in danger of bleeding.

"It's still in the shape of your... erm... innards too. He's trying to guide them out with food."

A horrible image imposed itself on Harry's unwilling brain of Severus Snape armed with a piece of popcorn and a pair of tweezers coaxing glowing grubs from a lifesize replica of his rectum. Strangely it didn't make him feel any better.


	10. Moody's Wrath

**Apologies to my readers, I have changed the rating to "M" as requested. In my defence this was originally published half a decade ago. They've reworded the ratings since. Back in those days "T" did not mean suitable for 13 year olds and the "M" rating was reserved for stories even I would be too squeamish to read. Even so I ought to have reread the guidelines, so sorry for that.**

* * *

"Professor Moody?" called Harry, knocking. They had reached their destination.

"Yes laddie?" snapped Moody through the door.

"I've got Draco Malfoy with me Sir," Harry replied smugly. "He's... volunteered... to help with the skrewts instead of me."

The door banged open and Moody's grizzly, naked form greeted them. Both Draco and Harry looked away at once- Draco to his left, Harry to his right so that their faces were within kissing distance of each other.

As uncomfortable as the position was, neither Harry nor Draco felt it was worse than looking directly at Alastor Moody's wedding tackle, so they continued to gaze at each other. It was an awkward moment.

"I thought the idea behind detention Potter," said Moody dangerously, "Was that the culprit did it himself. I assumed it was intended as a punishment." Harry's face fell, Draco brightened slightly.

"But Sir...!"

"Are you telling me Snape didn't mean to punish you?" asked Moody.

"Well, yes, but I think he's punished me enough for one lifetime!" implored Harry desperately.

At the word punishment, Draco's mind swam with various images featuring Harry and the fascinating array of bondage gear he'd once stumbled across in his father's study. He turned red and choked slightly.

"Sometimes we have to just lay down and take it Potter. Important life lesson that," Moody sighed.

Draco spluttered again- Harry glared at him and Moody looked over with the brow over his missing eye raised. "Still if Mr Malfoy is that keen to help," he growled, "Who am I to stop him? Bring him along to the Forbidden Forest, we can use him as bait."

"What? Bait for what?" yelped Draco.

"You volunteered to do this detention for Potter without even asking what it was?"

"Under duress!"

"We are on a mission lad," said Moody, drawing himself up to his full height which put his shriveled nipples on unfortunate eye level with both boys. "A mission to risk our lives breeding two dark creatures so that their poisons might be combined!"

"I thought one of Hagrid's blast ended skrewts swallowed your eye and we were going to get it back?" said Harry.

"Er... yes exactly," said Moody. "I was forgetting myself."

"Must be the mushrooms," Harry muttered to Draco resentfully. As far as he was concerned Moody was as much to blame for his ordeal as the Slytherins. It was only because the old man had spiked his drink with hallucinogenics that he had found himself helpless in Snape's office in the first place.

_I have to lay off the mushrooms_, Barty thought to himself. _I'm going to wind up giving myself away._

The truth, as Barty had explained to the real Moody locked in his trunk, was that by breeding Skrewts and Acromantula he hoped to extract a powerful new poison, which would form the basis of a potion to aid the Dark Lord Voldemort in his return to human form.

"On the subject of two species and skrewts," said Malfoy shrewdly, "We saw something very interesting last night."

"Oh?" said Moody and Harry together- but Moody's tone was seeded with interest, Harry's with deepest alarm.

"A baby spider- a very large baby spider- that could make its end bang just like the skrewts," said Malfoy. "I've never seen anything like it. Have you Potter?"

"No," replied Harry, relieved that the interesting thing was not related to his posterior. "No, it was very weird."

"It worked!" breathed Moody, "It was worth getting my balls roasted for!"

"What worked?" asked Harry, utterly bemused. He knew better than to ask about Moody's balls.

"Hagrid's Skrewts and the Acromantula have interbred!" whispered Barty, forgetting the Moody act in his ecstatic awe. "The inestimable power of their combined toxins may now be harnessed!"

"You mated Skrewts to Aragogs?" gasped Harry, horrified at the prospect of two of his least favourite magical animals combined.

"Aragogs?" asked Malfoy coolly. He knew what Acromantula were but had not been introduced to Hagrid's best friend first-hand.

"You say you saw one of the offspring?" asked Moody eagerly, grabbing Malfoy by the shoulders. "Where is it now?"

"Harry Potter ate it," replied Draco with a triumphant look.

There was a stunned pause.

"HARRY POTTER DID WHAT?" Moody roared.

"Not on purpose!" protested Harry.

"You ate the most important magical breakthrough of the decade?"

"Well not ate exactly, sort of chewed..."

"You turned an invaluable potions ingredient that almost cost me my life into a light brunch?"

"Um... Sorry?"

"OUT! OUT POTTER! MALFOY CAN HELP ME WITH THIS INSTEAD!"

The triumphant look faded from Draco's features and the gleam of victory appeared in Harry's eyes as though happiness had jumped from one to the other like a flea.

"Oh and Potter," added Moody coldly as he reached the edge of the forest, "Don't think you're off the hook. I expect you back in an hours time to do the demonstration. And since you wont be assisting me with reclaiming my eye the deal is off. Tonight you bare all!"

Harry's startling green eyes met Malfoy's pale grey and a look of comradely misery passed between them.

There is something about shared misery that brings two people closer together. Harry quite enjoyed his banter with Draco if he was honest with himself. The boy was so much sharper than Ron.

He wondered if perhaps one day they could set aside their differences and be friends after all.

Then, without taking his eyes off of Harry's, Malfoy patted the badge on his chest flashing the words "POTTER STRIPS" at him. Harry gave Malfoy a discrete birdy and the moment was gone.

Harry slumped back toward the castle. For the first time Malfoy felt a pang at seeing Harry go and not just because now he was alone with Moody and the skrewts.

Though that was a big part of it.


	11. Unplanned Parenthood

Barty Crouch's prison trunk was always cold and the real Moody had been severely weakened by months of magical enslavement. Nevertheless he was uncomfortable now even by his recent standards.

He was lying down on the floor, knees bent up and hands rested on his one remaining knee, his wooden leg had been misappropriated by Barty some time ago. It was stiff and painful but he didn't dare move for at least another hour.

The reason for this self-imposed paralysis would not be immediately obvious to the casual observer. At a passing glance he appeared to have a large number of glowing reddish-brown warts suspended from his limbs.

These were no warts however. These were fifty tiny cocoons.

Well... forty-seven now. There had been a few casualties in the metamorphosing process.

The first cocoon Moody had mistaken for a dried piece of Perseus Evan's Orgasm Extending Potion leftover from when Barty had thrown the Larvae Lamp into the trunk. That one had ended up in his dunny bucket.

Moody grunted in pain and readjusted very carefully.

He hadn't spotted the second faerie larva to start spinning itself a silk fortress and sat on it. He wasn't sure how long it had been there before he noticed his posterior felt a bit wet and wiped the squished brown sludge from his missing bum cheek.

Not that any of this had diminished the faerie larvae's affection for him in the slightest. They were not intelligent creatures, though they were highly magical which allowed them to communicate verbally some of what was going on in their simple insect brains.

It was a miracle really that more of them hadn't died. When he curled up to sleep the first night they covered him in light like the worlds ugliest Christmas tree. He had tried to explain that he might roll over in his sleep and squish them but this concept was beyond them and in the end he had no choice but to close his eyes and hope for the best.

Even so... even knowing how idiotic faeries were... the third one he'd accidentally killed made him wonder if being brought up in Barty Crouch's Larvae Lamp on a diet of Vindaloo had permanently scrambled whatever brains they had.

They seemed to prefer spinning their cocoons so that they were hanging from something. This one had thought Moody's nose was the perfect choice and had just finished silking up its tiny ankles when the accident happened.

He hadn't realized it was there. The curse that took a chunk from his nose had left him no feeling in it. He had never imagined this minor disability could ever cause a problem.

Until he sneezed.

Well... he wasn't going to waste time feeling guilty about it. He'd gone to great lengths to try and save it after all. It wasn't his fault he'd been unable to suck off all the mucus before it drowned.

He mustn't fall asleep.

"You were larvae for two years," he muttered more to himself than to the cocoons, "You'll be faeries for two weeks. And you get to spend them locked in this trunk with me and the dunny bucket. Face it lads, life ain't fair."

He shifted gingerly again. The cocoons wobbled dangerously from his arms and legs. If he lowered them they'd all be squashed.

He wondered if they were bored.

"I never thought I'd get to be a parent," he observed, bitterly.


	12. Perseus Evans

"Urrrggghhh."

Luna woke up with a blinding headache. It was much too hot but at least the purple badgers had gone away.

So humid... A glance around told her she was in Professor Trelawney's tower, with the window shut and the fire blazing. The old witch had lit some extra incense too. Luna was amazed she hadn't suffocated in her sleep.

"Do not be alarmed my dear, everything is quite alright!" Trelawney trilled. "It is not unusual for the clairvoyant vibrations in my room to stimulate prophetic visions!"

Luna kneaded her forehead.

She was, in truth, far less cynical than the majority of her classmates when it came to Seeing, but she suspected these visions were not of the predictive variety. Not unless her future featured giant spiders descending on her from the ceiling, her father receiving an Order of Merlin for discovering crumplehorned snorkacks and an awful lot of flashing coloured lights.

"Mushrooms..." she groaned.

"Mushrooms my dear?" Trelawney asked, peering at her. "What were the mushrooms doing? Were they flesh eating mushrooms? Were they attacking anyone? A skinny person perhaps? With dark hair and an unlucky scar?"

"Floating..."

"Floating? A body perhaps? Someone drowned?"

"No... the mushrooms were floating... in the tea. I saw them but I didn't think they'd be dangerous... Professor Moody..."

"Well that _is_ disappointing," sighed Trelawney.

"It is?" Luna asked blearily.

"Yes, Alastor told me about his special mushrooms already," Trelawney replied, her voice much less mystical. "And frankly dearest, I am surprised a promising student like you would accept them. I'm afraid this was not a true vision you saw."

"I think you might be right," agreed Luna.

"Well, best get yourself down to Professor Snape's office for an antidote," she suggested. Anyone but Luna would have been surprised at this unusually sensible suggestion from Trelawney.

"Ok," she mumbled, staggering for the ladder and clutching her head.

Unlike Harry, who had only taken a sip of the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher's special brew, and recovered within the space of an hour, Luna had drunk the entire cupful. Her head was splitting in two.

The dungeons were wonderfully cool after the heat of Trelawney's tower. That on its own made her feel a little better. Her head still hurt but she began to walk more purposefully toward Snape's office.

There was an odd hissing and chanting coming from it.

Normally even Luna would have known that only suicidal students ever barged into Snape's office without knocking but she had yet to recover her full mental capacity. She flung the door open and staggered in.

It was a sobering sight.

Snape's office was crammed with cardboard boxes, packing foam and empty glass bottles, each one bearing the same label:

**Perseus Evans' Orgasm Extending Potion!**

Snape himself stood frozen in the middle of the office over a hissing cauldron of reddish-brown goo. As Luna watched, horrified, archs of potion began leaping from the surface of the cauldron and into the waiting bottles which neatly closed their lids and packed themselves into the waiting boxes.

"Ah." said Snape.

Luna didn't know _what_ to say.

"I'm selling broom polish," Snape half-lied.

Luna said nothing. There was no point pretending to believe him, he'd remember her age in a minute anyway.

"Tell anyone Miss Lovegood and the Bloody Baron will no longer be alone in haunting these dungeons."

"I won't tell anyone," she said in a small voice.

"I mean it," he snarled menacingly.

"So do I," replied Luna meekly.

He grabbed her jaw and tilted her head back to stare at her eyes. They were black and cruel and glittered, as though he were reading her mind for the truth. Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him that she really would keep quiet because he let her go.

"Well... You're a good girl Miss Lovegood," he admitted grudgingly.

There was a long pause as the bottles continued to fill and pack themselves away ready to be shipped wholesale to certain adult shops in Hogsmeade and Knockturn Alley.

Luna was not sure if she was allowed to leave.

"That's a nice lamp," she ventured to break the silence.

"What lamp?" asked Snape frowning.

Luna pointed tentatively. Snape raised his eyebrows. "You actually like that?"

Luna nodded mutely. The lamp was unlike any she had seen before, composed of intricate twists and turns. Inside tiny glowing lights inched their way around it.

To Snape, of course, it was a revolting object- a shapeshifting anal probe designed to test for drugs which had become stuck in the shape of Harry Potter's bowels.

_"Why not?"_ Snape thought, shrugging. _"It's a small price for her not telling the school that I am the famous Perseus Evans. Besides it's too late to fix it now, its been this shape too long, it wont change back again._"

"It is yours," he informed Luna generously. "You'll need to feed the larvae though. Just poke a few faerie flakes through the holes every day. Once they metamorphose into faeries they'll only last a few days but they should breed as long as you keep them in the dark. Candlelight... confuses them.

To Luna's astonishment he handed her the lamp.

"Keep it. Just... don't show it to anyone outside of Ravenclaw."

"Thank you Professor!" she exclaimed.

Snape watched the confused and delighted girl stumble away and shut his office door again.

"How insane does one need to be," he asked the room aloud, "To want to keep a lifesize replica of Harry Potter's colon as a table lamp?"


	13. Recovery

A twig snapped, Draco flinched and Moody rolled his one remaining eye.

"So what has Potter got on you that you volunteered for this anyway?" the older man growled.

They were striding through the Forbidden Forest, crunching autumn leaves underfoot. It would have been a pleasant stroll were it not for the threat of skrewts and spiders and the fact that he was with Mad-Eye Moody. He had his wand out but previous experience with Hagrid's pets had left Draco with little faith in its likely efficacy.

"Snape thought Potter was taking Powdered Dragon Claw to make himself smarter for the Triwizard tournament," shrugged Draco. There was no reason to hide the truth from Moody, after all he had only been acting under Snape's instructions and Moody was doing weirder things these days. "He tried to do a drug test on him by putting a corkscrew into his arse..."

"His arse?" asked Moody. It was the first time Draco had ever seen the Professor surprised.

"Yes, Professor Snape got me to put the corkscrew into his arse. If Potter had traces of Dragon Claw in his intestines these fairie larvae were supposed to be able to find their way out of it."

"Ok, just checking I heard right," replied Moody.

"Anyway Snape was wrong," the blonde boy continued. "Whatever drugs he'd been taking it definitely wasn't Dragon Claw. The larvae ended up extra stupid and couldn't get out. They broke the instrument, it's stuck in the shape of Harry Potter's bowels now with the faeries still inside."

"Mushrooms," said Moody.

"What mushrooms?" gasped Draco, eyes sweeping the forest floor for flesh eating flora.

"No, mushrooms were what was in his gut," said Moody. "I'd given him a cup of mushroom tea. That's what the faeries would've ingested."

"Huh," said Draco. "Solves that mystery. Anyway, Potter came round too soon before we got the corkscrew out. I volunteered in exchange for him not telling the whole school that I shoved a magical implement up his butt."

"Was he likely to tell anyone anyway?" asked Moody frowning.

"No... I suppose not," said Draco, feeling foolish.

They reached a clearing.

"Right, here's the plan," said Moody. "I've got a chicken vindaloo here with a whole packet of muggle laxatives thrown in. All we have to do is find the right skrewt and get it to eat it. Then hey presto! I'll have my eye back and we can leave."

"How do we know which is the right skrewt?" asked Draco apprehensively.

"It will be acting... odd," said Moody. "It's the one that's in love with a giant spider and unless it's passed the eye already it will be a bit confused. The eye doesn't only work in the eye socket, you can place it into any orifice. It will have an unusual view of its own insides which let me tell you can be quite disconcerting!"

Draco wrinkled his nose, looking very like his mother for a split second.

"Keep your eyes peeled for more of those spiderlings too," said Moody. He needed the venom from an Acromantula-Skrewt hybrid for the potion his master needed to revive himself. Even Bartemus Crouch Junior, however, was not dedicated enough to the Dark Lord Voldemort that he planned on cross breeding these species more than once.

* * *

Harry twisted in the mirror to get a good look at his bottom. It was still very obviously red and sore.

"Well I've got some face powder," suggested Hermione, squatting down to peer at it. "Are you sure you don't want to go to Madam Pomfrey?

Harry straightened up abruptly and turned his bottom away from her. Unfortunately the result was his tackle dangling in front of her face. She regarded it in a clinical sort of way and straightened up.

"Very sure," said Harry emphatically.

Not only did he want as few people to know about his experience in Snape's office as possible, but if the school nurse knew that Snape had suspected him of taking drugs she might order a drug test of her own. Not that he considered himself in danger of an anal probe from the elderly nurse, but he was not sure how long it would take Moody's mushrooms to leave his system or where school policy (and indeed wizard law) stood on the issue of hallucinogens.

"Well they're going to notice that at the Naturist Club," she said matter-of-factly. "So unless you want them to start calling you the Boy Who Experimented face powder it is."

"I can't put makeup on my body for the club!" cried Harry, aghast.

He looked at himself critically in the mirror for the umpteenth time that evening. He was small and skinny and lanky and had no desire to expose himself to a largely hostile audience.

"Well I'll see what I can do with magic then," Hermione answered dubiously. "But you know what Moody always warns about magic and posteriors."

She knelt down with her wand out and Harry's sphincter tightened instinctively. However, instead of the expected pain, he felt a gentle tickling balm as she worked her spell. She carried on for several minutes with nervous glances at the boy's bathroom door to ensure that they were not being watched.

Finally she stood up, admiring her handiwork.

"How is it?" asked Harry apprehensively.

"Better, the swelling is gone," said Hermione in an artificially cheery voice. "There seems to have been a little side effect though."

Slowly, dreading what he was going to see, Harry twisted round once more to look at his bottom in the mirror.


	14. The Naturist Club

**As we enter our penultimate chapter gentle readers, please accept the apologies of the cult of Bob the very, very, very long time it has taken to bring this story to a conclusion. **

Harry had predicted from the start that nobody would show up to Moody's Naturist Club, but it soon became apparent that his Divination lessons had not paid off. The entire school was there. The faculty were there. Rita Skeeter and her photographer were there. Even Dobby was there, smiling encouragingly from beneath his tea cosy between Trelawney and Hagrid.

"You're not allowed here!" he bellowed furiously, storming up to the journalist. "Dumbledore banned you from the grounds!"

"Actually I was invited to this event," she said with a sickly smile. "Dumbledore insisted the day Moody made his announcement. He felt that unless everything about this club were… out in the open so to speak… there might be accusations of impropriety against the school."

"What angle are you going to run on this story?" Harry asked wearily.

"I've not decided yet," said Rita thoughtfully, sucking the end of her acid green quill. "There are so many options to choose from. Psychotic attention seeking seems almost a waste… an exposé of the corruption of our youth? I don't know. This will be front page stuff for at least a fortnight though. An opportunity like this comes along once in a lifetime for a journalist."

Harry strode away. What did it matter? Almost everyone he knew in the wizarding world was already here. He wondered how Sirius would react when he next stole a paper from the Hogsmeade bins.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked Hermione and Ron.

"We're here for moral support," said Hermione bravely. "And in case you need any help getting away."

"We could leave if you prefer though?" offered Ron hopefully. Hermione scowled and held the ginger boy's arm in a pincer grip.

Harry shook his head, almost past caring, slumped over to a chair and sat down. Everyone was watching him. Beautiful Fleur Delacour who was surrounded by boys anxious to know if she was simply observing the club or whether she intended to participate. Surly Krum, lurking around Hermione. At least Malfoy had stayed away.

They waited, and waited. It seemed as though years had passed since the whole nudist nightmare had begun. Harry began to hope that Moody would never show up.

_Clunk, clunk, clunk._

The students held their collective breath.

_Clunk, clunk, clunk._

The door to the great hall opened and there, naked and proud stood Alastor Moody. Skeeter's cameraman began clicking away at once, ducking and weaving around the assembled students to capture every last posterior detail for posterity.

From his moles and grey, vine-like hairs to his prunish willy and missing butt cheek not a thing was left to the imagination. The only thing Harry could not see was his eye socket. Draco and Moody had, it appeared been successful in retrieving Moody's magical eye.

The wrinkled Professor stumped to the staff table and spread his arms out wide.

"Welcome!" he declared, "To the first meeting of the Hogwarts Flutist Association!"

A puzzled muttering buzzed around the hall.

"It's the table!" Trelawney said to Hagrid in a loud whisper. "He's forgotten the table!"

All the staff knew that the teacher's table at Hogwarts was enchanted so that whenever they said something rude or inappropriate, the table would translate it into something innocuous for the students to hear.

"No longer," cried Moody, oblivious to the fact that nobody could hear what he was really saying. "Do one's private harps need to be something we only get out and play with in private."

Harry stopped bothering to listen. Malfoy had just stumbled through the doors burned and bloody. It looked as though he had caught the wrong end of a skrewt getting Moody's eye back. He was holding something in his hands. Every so often his hands would flinch and the boy winced as though he was cradling a stinging wasp.

The defence against the Dark Arts teacher went on at some length. Eventually the photographer stopped documenting Moody and, at Rita's direction, began collecting stock photos of the watching students instead.

"And now!" called Moody loudly. "It is time for my assistant demonstrator Harry Potter to get things started by playing his instrument for us. Harry! You're up!"

_This is it, _thought Harry. _Only a miracle can save me now._

He climbed the teacher's table like a hangman's gallows. He could feel hundreds of eyes on him. Some hostile, some amused, a very few sympathetic but all staring. He could hear the shutter of the camera and a strange clicking sound that must be his teeth chattering. Slowly he undid the clasp of his robes to roars of derision from the audience.

"Worst stripper ever!" croaked Malfoy. Then his folded hands flashed and his jaw clenched in pain once more. A memory stirred in Harry's fried mind of the exploding baby spider he had inadvertently eaten in Snape's office.

It was time to drop his robes. Jibes of "Get on with it!" were resounding from the watching students and the words "Potter Strips" flashed in green on badges all around him. It was time. He took a deep breath…

…and a miracle happened.

"ARRRGGGH" screamed Draco. He ran full pelt to the stage and jumped up to Harry and Moody. Soon his screams were echoed around the room as people looked away from the stage and up. Dozens of giant hairy spiders were swarming over the ceiling. They were clicking angrily and all looking at Harry, Draco and Moody with their many eyes.

A tide of students surged out of the main exit but their cries of terror turned to hysterical screaming and they tried to turn back. A loud bang from outside told Harry that they had run straight into the blast ended skrewts.

In the confusion, some people were running from the giant spiders toward the doors and others were running from the skrewts back into the hall. The people in the middle were crushed. Harry saw Dobby's teacosy being swamped and vanishing under the crowd but there was nothing he could do.

"They've found us!" screamed Draco. "We stole their baby and now they've come to rescue it!"

He gesticulated wildly, hands still cupping the tiny creature up at the giant black arachnids on the ceiling against a glittering backdrop of stars.

"Take it! Take it!" he screamed desperately, thrusting the half-spider, half-skrewt into Moody's hands.

He was just in time. The spiders began descending on the petrified students on ropes of silk.

"It's coming true!" Luna screamed, bullrushing her way through the students to a stunned Professor Trelawney. "It wasn't the mushrooms Professor! My vision was real after all, look! Spiders descending from the ceiling!"

"What else? What else did you see?" cried Trelawney frantically seizing the girl and shaking her so that her bracelets crashed in the din. "Did you see how we get out of this?"

Luna shook her head desperately.

"We were rescued by lots of coloured lights!" she recalled. "And my father won an Order of Merlin for discovering crumplehorned snorkacks, but that's all I remember!"

"I don't see any lights!" screamed Trelawney. The spiders were almost on top of them now.

"HELP ME!" bellowed Moody.

Everyone turned to see that a spider had seized the naked Professor and was busy wrapping him in a silk prison as it hauled him up to the ceiling.

"NO! NO! PLEASE NOOOOO!" screamed Draco, thrashing as a second spider carried the blonde boy skyward.

Harry had dived under the magical table, wand out. He was the one who had eaten one of the spider babies, he knew who they'd be coming for next.

A spider thrust its head under the table, pincers snapping. Harry tried to stun it but it had no effect. Sparks from his wand were not enough to scare it away it was too angry. He scampered backward kicking at it. A drop of vemon dripped from its pincers.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!" _he cried.

The enormous oak table lifted a few inches off the floor, and wobbled for a second before Harry brought it slamming down on the unfortunate spider's head. There was a sickening crunch.

Harry grinned, but his triumph was short lived. Stick-thin but strong black legs seized him from behind and before he knew what was happening he was being lifted out from under the table. He tried to raise his wand arm but found that it was trapped in a sticky vein of silk. As it lifted him the spider turned him round and round coating him in silver.

By the time he reached the top he was dizzy and fully encased, able to move only his eyes. Even his mouth at been bound shut. They hung him upsidedown next to Draco who was similarly stuck, grey eyes locked with his in helpless terror.

Moody had escaped this so far because he had refused to release the baby spider and its aunts and uncles seemed unsure how to force him to, without risking it being squashed. Currently he was wrapped only from the waist down, naked and bellowing curses as below him the spiders wove a fine safety net in case the spiderling was dropped.

And then the lights came.


	15. The End

Like locusts they swarmed into the hall in a blaze of purples and golds over the heads of the panicking students. Harry heard a series of loud bangs from the corridor outside. He was spinning upside down, bound by the spider's silk, but by wriggling his torso he could just position himself so the he could see what was going on.

"The skrewts are stunned!" screamed Fleur Delacour. She was near the exit and led an immediate stampede out of the great hall. Struggling forward against the surging mass of students came Dumbledore, Snape and Mcgonagal.

Draco started struggling wildly to get their attention, his screams muffled by the spider silk.

Snape pointed his wand at Rita Skeeter's handbag. The reporter was crouched behind a table, notepad out while the photographer took snapshots.

"_Accio Newspaper!_" he cried. A copy of the Daily Prophet soared out of Skeeter's bag. As it approached he waved his wand soundlessly and it grew and grew.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!" _he bellowed and the giant newspaper rolled itself up and flew at the ceiling where it swatted one of the giant spiders. The unlucky arachnid tumbled down in a rain of green slime, its many legs twitching feebly.

McGonagal brandished her wand at another spider and at once the spindly legs began to plait themselves rendering the creature immobile and helpless.

Dumbledore flicked his wand at Moody. At once the web unwound itself and the Auror tumbled down into a silken safety net the spiders had been constructing in case he dropped their baby. Two more spiders advanced on him at once, but Snape beat them back with his giant newspaper.

Draco's frantic screams had taken on an angry tone. Harry couldn't be certain what he was trying to say but he thought he could catch a "My Father" in there somewhere. For once Harry didn't blame him. He would have thought that the students would be rescued first.

Moody leapt from the net to the floor tackle swinging wildly and almost catching Dumbledore in the face with it on the way down.

"THAT IS IT!" Dumbledore roared at him.

So rare was it for the headmaster to truly lose his temper that a few of the students at the back of the crowd who had not yet made it out turned back to look.

"I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!" he thundered at Moody. "I am grateful to you for coming back this year, which is why I turned a blind eye to this for so long… BUT YOUR EXPERIMENTS WITH NUDISM ARE AT AN END, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"But-" protested Moody.

"BUT NOTHING!" Snape roared, turning the giant paper on him. "I NEVER WANT TO SEE ANY PART OF YOU EXCEPT YOUR FACE UNDER THIS ROOF AGAIN!"

"YOU HAVE ENDANGERED THE SAFETY OF THE STUDENTS AT THIS SCHOOL, NOT TO MENTION MY EYES!" Mcgonagal added. "GET OUT!"

At first Moody opened his mouth to argue but he never got the chance. The swarming colourful lights were converging on him. Dozens of angry faeries swooped brandishing tiny fists. The real Moody had tended the cocoons and they had hatched. They must have escaped by flying through the trunk's keyhole. Now they were bent on revenge.

Barty Crouch Junior turned and ran for his office, still clutching the skrewt-spider hybrid. He was slow on Moody's wooden leg and the faeries easily followed stinging his bare bum and screeching tiny war cries.

"It was worth it though," he thought, insanely. "I've got it! I've actually got it! I've got the skrewt-acromantula hybrid. Now the Dark Lord will be able to use its vemon make his potion! He will rise once more!"

The Death Eater made it to his office and slammed the door behind him locking the faeries out. His eyes rolled into his head and he laughed with insane joy. It was several minutes before he noticed the letter on his desk.

It was in the Dark Lord's own hand. He approached it cautiously.

"_Dear Barty," _he read aloud in disbelief.

"_No need to worry about the venom for the potion after all. Wormtail pointed out that we could just use Nagini! Silly me. Good thing we remembered before you wasted time making those difficult hybrids!_

_Hugs and kisses,_

_The Dark Lord Voldemort"_

Barty screamed. His cry was so anguished that on the other side of the door the faeries were convinced that he was suffering enough and agreed amongst themselves to leave him alone. Barty cried himself to sleep on the floor. When he awoke the acroskrewtula had scuttled out of the window and back to the Forbidden Forest. He vowed never to indulge in either nudism or animal husbandry again.

Back in the great hall Harry and Draco were still hanging upside-down.

The Professors had sent the last of the spiders scurrying back to the Forbidden Forest with Severus Snape's giant newspaper hot on their heels (or whatever spiders have where heels should be). Many of the fleeing crowd had returned to the hall to resume watching the spectacle now that the danger had passed.

The difficulty was that the spider silk was stuck to the two boy's clothes. This had not been a problem when freeing Moody because he had not been wearing any (the first convincing argument in favour of nudism Harry had heard). Harry, however, had not gotten around to dropping his robes and Draco had never had any intention of taking his clothes of in the first place.

Mcgonagal, Snape and Dumbledore were in deep discussion.

"There's nothing else for it," Minerva sighed in the end.

She waved her wand and a giant tartan trampoline sprung into being beneath the two boys. Snape conjured up ten bottles of Perseus Evans' Orgasm Extending Potion from thin air and doused the sticky spider webs as a lubricant.

"On three," said Snape. "One… two… THREE!"

All three teachers waved their wands and the boys slipped free. Harry and Draco yelled as the tartan trampoline rushed unexpectedly to meet them. In truth Harry was more surprised than frightened. He felt beyond fear now.

It was several bouncing somersaults before Harry registered that Draco had been freed from his outer garments as well as the spider silk. Mercifully he was still wearing underwear. It was another bounce before he registered that he too had lost his clothes.

Normally being in just his underpants would not be a problem. The Quidditch team saw him like this every week except… Hermione's spell to heal his bottom had had a small side effect.

It had caused his bottom to sprout fur. Not just a little bit of discrete hairiness but enormous black ringlets which were spilling out of the pants and some way up his back and down his legs. Draco was looking at him with an expression of utter horror.

His eyes scanned the crowd.

His faithful friends had never left him even when the giant invertebrates attacked. Hermione's face was bright red and her face was in her palm, though whether from embarrassment at his nakedness or her own faulty spell Harry could not say. Ron was staring at the door that the spiders had left by and was shaking. Ron hated spiders.

As many jaws were scraping the floor of the Great Hall as when Moody first announced his new hobby. Dumbledore looked amused, Mcgonagal concerned and Snape extremely puzzled. Dobby, battered and bruised, was inspecting his own bottom thoughtfully. Harry hoped he was not going to make himself a pair of fur lined underpants. Some of the girls were whispering amongst themselves trying to establish whether or not boys were supposed to look like that. The only one present with a neutral expression was Hagrid. Judging by the hair on his head, this sort of body hair was clearly not coming as any great surprise.

Well. It served everyone right for showing up anyway. Harry stood up on the trampoline, took a bow and walked proudly away all eyes on his furry bottom.

**The End**

Epilogue:

Skeeter was not allowed to publish her article because her editors, like Ms Rowling's own, deemed that Moody becoming a naturist is just plain gross and not fit subject for publication (HEY- you were warned on the very first page!)

Harry and Draco never hooked up. This is partly because Harry's furry bottom put Draco off, but mostly because both characters like girls. Also they really, really hate each other.

Impostor Moody was able to facilitate the revival the Dark Lord Voldemort and spark a new reign of terror in the wizarding world. He lived happily ever after, albeit not for very long.

Severus Snape sold the Perseus Evans' brand to an American company who promptly renamed the formula and stole his royalties. When the potion made millions Snape became depressed and later allowed himself to be eaten by a giant snake.

Dumbledore offered the surviving faeries jobs as Christmas decorations. He never had to pay them because they only live for two weeks in their adult form. He spent the savings on thermal socks.

The acroskrewtula lives in the forest to this day. It had eaten twenty-seven students to date.

Luna still has a lamp in the shape of Harry Potter's intestines, containing the faeries' great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great- great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great- great-great-great-great-great-great-great- grandchildren. The part of her prophetic mushroom vision where her father is given an Order of Merlin for discovering crumplehorned snorkacks had not yet come to pass. Her hunt continues…


End file.
